


Who By Fire

by Issay



Series: Of Death and Transfiguration [2]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Age Difference, Feels, Fix-It, M/M, Massage, Slash, Slow Build, fluffy if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 11:21:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3408737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Issay/pseuds/Issay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow, suddenly Harry has his arms full of Eggsy, scent of cedarwood and ash soaking into his skin. And it feels like the most natural thing in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who By Fire

They say death changes everything.  
Bitches, try _coming back_ from the dead.

*

"You've been sorely missed," says Nimue as he's getting out of the car. Harry stops for a second and looks at the red haired technician, who simply smiles softly and winks. Shaking his head, the newly appointed Arthur closes the car door shut and slowly comes into his own house, slightly scared of what he'll find inside.  
There's something different about his hardwood floors and antique furniture, about the walls and framed photos. The scent is different and for a second he can't recognize it. But then the well-honed spy senses kick in - his reaction time is slow, too slow, maybe it's good that he's Arthur now because it involves a lot of admin work and less field, he would be useless there now. Cedarwood. Ash. Hint of bitterness.  
"Eggsy," he whispers and just like that, like it was a magician's spell, the boy - no, Harry corrects himself, slightly shocked (not that he would ever show it) - the man, the younger man appears in the hallway. They look at each other for a long while, moment that stretches into eternity. Eggsy looks like he hasn't slept in days, lines of grief and worry visible on his face. He's dressed quite casually but it's more gentleman style than the street thug's clothes Harry's grown used to by now - grey wool pants, white shirt, black cardigan. It's nice, well, more than nice. Not that Harry would admit it.  
Eggsy drinks the sight in, still not quite believing his own eyes. Harry's thinner than he should be and there's a still angry red scar high on his forehead. He looks tired.  
"Welcome home," says Galahad eventually, his voice breaking.  
Somehow, suddenly Harry has his arms full of Eggsy, scent of cedarwood and ash soaking into his skin. And it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

*

They eventually end up in front of the fireplace in comfortable silence, J.B. softly panting near the entrance to the sitting room. Eggsy made himself at home - apparently inheriting the house along with the Galahad title - but didn't really change a thing. His clothes are in the guest bedroom and his favorite cereal are in the pantry now, but except for that, Harry's place is exactly as he left it all those weeks ago. It surprises and at the same time comforts him.  
"When that bloke from SHIELD called that they've found you..." Eggsy starts in a hoarse voice that makes Harry want things, things he shouldn't crave but it's so hard not to imagine that voice in an entirely different situation. "I thought they were kidding. You know, toying with us because of the Hydra business. But here you are."  
Harry sees wetness in another man's eyes and instinctively reaches out to take his hand. Eggsy's fingers are warm and dry, like wood or a stone on a sunny day.  
"You are not getting rid of me by a mere bullet in the head...Galahad."  
Eggsy laughs shakily and dries his eyes with the cardigan. Harry's cardigan, if he's not mistaken, not that he minds. There is something nice about seeing his protégé wearing Harry's clothes, their scents mixing on his skin. The older agent shakes his head mentally, trying to stop the images of bodies pressed to one another without the barrier of fine cloths, fingers crumpling the sheets, whispers soft in the warm air...  
"I should get going," murmurs Eggsy. "I've given my house to mum and crashed here, but..."  
"I am not kicking you out," Harry says with sudden courage. "I wouldn't mind having your company."

*

That night Harry lies in his own bed and tries very hard not to think about all the things he would like to do to the man sleeping in the guest bedroom.

*

Other Kingsman agents are happy to see him but much more composed than Eggsy. Well, maybe not Merlin who yells some more and then squeezes Harry in the harshest hug he has ever experienced (not that people hug him often, it makes his impeccable suit crinkle). Also, for some reason, Eggsy's mother comes by one afternoon when her son isn't around - and the new Arthur is still on half-duty only, doctor's orders - to apologize for being "such a bitch" all those years ago and to tell him that she's happy he didn't die.  
Huh.  
The first thing he does is redecorate the office after the previous Arthur. Chester King maybe was a good man once but to say that the end of his reign was dishonorable would be a misunderstanding so Harry throws away his predecessor's favorite armchair and collection of butterflies with relief. Some paint, change of furniture and everything will go back to normal.  
Except it doesn't.  
Harry knows his days as a field agent are over. Valentine's bullet had cost him much more than just reaction time. These days he even has problems with firing a weapon heavier than a pistol and even then has trouble hitting the target perfectly. Most of his hand to hand combat abilities also went to shit.  
"You may still regain some of your previous skills but I don't want to keep your hopes up," says Merlin one evening after a check-up. "I would like you to have a protection detail since, I'm sorry, Harry, but you're unable to defend yourself right now."  
He sighs deeply.  
"Fine. But only when I'm here, atelier is indeed the best place for an assassination attempt. Don't need protection in the headquarters."  
"And at home?"  
"Please," Harry smiles. "I have Eggsy living with me. Just don't tell him he's the protection detail, he'll be unbearable."  
If Merlin looks at him strangely, Harry ignores it happily.

*

It's one of those nights. Harry's head hurts and the pillow feels like it was carved in stone, not soft feathers. He's too hot, then too cold, the room spins... He knows it's only his brain but can't help thinking that maybe he's been poisoned or something is terribly wrong with him.  
"I could hear you from the room across the floor, you know."  
It's the best sign that his senses are failing him - Harry didn't hear Eggsy's quiet entrance and a voice breaking the silence startled him.  
"Still not knocking, I see," he replies dryly.  
Eggsy chuckles and sits on the edge of Harry's bed, looking at the man with worried eyes.  
"Your hard head giving you trouble?"  
"Some."  
In one swift movement Eggsy's sitting next to Harry's pillows and places one on his lap, patting it invitingly.  
"Come on. Mum says I'm giving the best massages in London. If you don't like it, you can blame her."  
After a second of hesitation Harry slowly rests his head on Eggsy's lap and then there are fingers in his hair, careful around the scar, smart fingers, ones that know where to press and where to stroke. Slowly they caress him into restful sleep.

*

Harry wakes up remembering hot, chapped lips on his own and feeling a muscled, warm body pressed to his.  
He smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> "No, Your Honour, I didn't want to write a series but it kind of attacked me and made me write it!"
> 
> [Find me on tumblr!](http://issayscorner.tumblr.com/)


End file.
